


Falling Apart

by transience



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Attempts at angst, Crying, Domestic Disputes, Headaches & Migraines, M/M, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transience/pseuds/transience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re special, you’re brave, you’re everything to me, Sei. You’re the one who confessed to me that day in the Teiko music room. You were standing paces in front of the piano, your hands still grasped your violin and bow as my fingers skimmed the smooth ivory and ebony of the piano keys to press the last notes of our duet in a soft pianissimo. The distance between us was tangible, but I had never felt so close to anyone before as when your eyes met mine and your lips formed those few words.</p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>We weren’t even 20 then.</p><p>You leave me little over a decade later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a story that is, as to my knowledge, true.  
> sorry if the tense is screwy.  
> A little early for Midorima's birthday but well.

“He knew.”

“He did. For years, actually. Did he not tell you?”

Midorima looks away from Akashi’s father, and his eyes find the other Miracles in the crowd by their hair, which stood out in the sea of black around him. The air was heavy and silent, and all Midorima sees are people clad in black among gray stones under the bleak bleached sky. He doesn’t see the red of Akashi’s hair among the Miracles, and the loss of it is strangely jarring.

“No, he never did tell me these things.”

Midorima’s tone is bitter.

* * *

* * *

 

_You’re special, you’re brave, you’re everything to me, Sei. You’re the one who confessed to me that day in the Teiko music room. You were standing paces in front of the piano, your hands still grasped your violin and bow as my fingers skimmed the smooth ivory and ebony of the piano keys to press the last notes of our duet in a soft pianissimo. The distance between us was tangible, but I had never felt so close to anyone before as when your eyes met mine and your lips formed those few words._

_“I love you.”_

_We weren’t even 20 then._

_You leave me little over a decade later, Sei._

 

* * *

_“I have always loved you.”_

_“Since when?”_

_“Since I first knew you.”_

* * *

 

Akashi was brave.

Midorima recalls first seeing that bright shade of red in a day-long Kendo meet. He hears the noisy exclamations of Kendo practitioners as he approaches the door to the hall, a carnation tucked into his bag as his lucky item. Most of those at the hall were bigger and older than Midorima by a year or two. Midorima had taken up Kendo as per his family’s tradition since he was young, though, and with luck on his side he was confident of being capable enough to be a worthy challenger.

Midorima doesn’t make it to finals, but he is one of the last four standing. He is defeated by a challenger three years his senior, and far bigger than he. He is content with having beat a fair lot of his seniors, though, although he doesn’t miss the resentful glances directed at him.

A short break is announced before the finals would commence that very day. The meet is a casual one, and only small tokens would be given to finalists, but it offered a good opportunity to test one’s skills before the upcoming tournament the next month, and there was the matter of pride for the more senior children. Midorima is not surprised when he finds himself backed up against a wall and surrounded by other boys.

“He’s nothing,” the one who beat Midorima says, as others sneer.

“Just a stupid brat with a stupid flower.”

Midorima’s eyes widen as a boy reveals a carnation waving it in the air and making a motion as if he were going to rip its petals off-

The stalk was plucked cleanly from his hand.

All eyes fell onto a boy even smaller than Midorima.

“This is highly dishonourable of you,” the boy says, in a steely calm tone, handing the carnation back to Midorima. Midorima stares quizzically at a pair of red eyes.

“Come,” the boy says, and turns to walk away, quickly side-stepping, arm shooting out and a grip closing on the finalist’s wrist.

“You’re all talk-!” he spits with venom, while red eyes stare back impassively.

Midorima sees a grip slacken, and the smaller boy walks away as if nothing had happened.

 

Midorima finds him in front of a bench, drinking water.

“Interesting choice of flower. Were you looking for divine assistance? Carnations do mean Flower of the gods,” the red head states, barely lifting up his head.

“They’re my lucky item for today. Thank you for earlier …”

“Akashi Seijuurou.”

 

Xxx

 

Midorima recognised Akashi as the finalists take their places despite the loose black _hakama_ and _men_ he wears that conceal his build features. It is partially because Midorima knows only Akashi could be in the finals with such a small stature, but also because of the stance he takes, self-assurance resonating from him despite facing an opponent who was almost twice his size.

Sure enough, when the smaller one is declared the winner – in fact, the other’s _shinai_ hadn’t once touched him – Midorima is not surprised when the mask is removed to reveal tousled red hair and a calm expression.

 

Xxx

 

Akashi passes his token to Midorima after.

“It is yours to keep. I have no need of it.”

“You were showing off, weren’t you?”

“That’s preposterous. He was the one who was asking for it, after all. His conduct in provoking you was deplorable. Hence, his defeat was necessary and deserved.”

Akashi would always pass Midorima his token at future meetings, of which he would always win.

* * *

 

_Midorima pulls open his bedside drawer and glances at the remnants of a broken jar. A small collection of tokens, a mix of gold and silver and a single bronze, still sit amongst the shards. (He had broken that jar weeks ago, in a disagreement with Akashi.)_

 

* * *

Midorima can hardly recall any instance when he or Akashi had to miss a day of school due to illness. They had always been in the peak of health and physical fitness, save the sensitive subject of Akashi’s other self. Midorima still recalls Akashi’s mothering tendencies in their early Teiko years, where Kuroko and Murasakibara would be made to eat  _proper_ food, Kise and Aomine’s one-on-ones being forcibly interrupted as they showed signs of over-exertion, and Midorima’s one-man shooting practice stopped at the slightest tremble in his arms. Akashi missed nothing, and victory had always been important to him, but he did care for all of them.

They shared the same interests, although perhaps for Akashi those had simply been necessary. They were well-versed in the arts, sports, as well as academics, with both being skilled at an instrument, basketball, shogi and being consistent top-scorers in every exam. Akashi had always been first, though, with countless of perfect scores on his record, while Midorima had always been the one who claimed as much extra credit possible, but still falling short of perfection.

And it was the very need to be perfect and victorious and absolute that broke Akashi, leaving Midorima lost and unable to piece back the captain, the _friend_ , he had known. He resorts to ignoring Akashi along the hallways, as if ignoring it would make it not real. He sets down the path of forgotten fist bumps, of rejected handshakes, of turning away from any attempt to reach out.

In the end, it was not Kuroko who saved Akashi. Akashi saved himself.

After that Winter Cup, Akashi summons them once more before Vorpal Swords was formed. He extends apologies to each one of them, and although there is still a distance between the Miracles and their captain, the air is less tense.

* * *

The next few years, Rakuzan wins in both years, but there are no more grandiose declarations of being absolute or gouging of eyes, and Akashi plays in every game with any of the Miracles. Midorima notices that he smiles more often as well, and after another Rakuzan/Shuutoku game, Midorima observes as the team surrounds Akashi, Hayama cheering and leaping around, Nebuya pumping his fists, Reo positively glowing as he clings onto the fifth member of the Rakuzan line-up. Akashi is in the middle, beaming, and Midorima is oddly surprised when he allows his teammates to ruffle his hair.

“Midorima.”

“Akashi.”

Midorima nods, as Akashi approaches.

Akashi extends a hand.

“A commendable game. You played magnificently.”

Midorima almost drops his porcelain frog.

“Thank you. You were great as well, nanodayo.”

Akashi seemed to grin at that, eyes shining in the fluorescent lighting of the indoor sports hall, and Midorima feels the familiar pressure of Akashi’s grip as they shake hands.

Midorima was proud of his team, they had managed to stand up to Rakuzan, after all, despite three key players graduating. His accuracy hadn’t diminished, and his coordinated plays with Takao were sometimes able to make it past Akashi’s defence. His senpai’s siblings had also proved themselves, although they still had much to improve on.

He thinks the main difference was that this time, Akashi hadn’t played as if victory was the given end. He had played the basketball he loved, had played to _play_.

* * *

After high school, as Midorima went into medical school while Akashi delved into business and economics, they had moved in together.

 They would run in the mornings, a few laps around the nearby lake, and took turns preparing nutritious meals, and this continued well after their graduation, when Midorima was a young but high-ranking doctor in a hospital, and Akashi had made quite a reputation as well as considerable earnings.

Midorima never saw it coming.

* * *

It all starts when Akashi starts sleeping in on weekends, blowing off their weekly runs.

Midorima is a man of routine. He is used to going through his morning routine of get up, run, shower, make breakfast, eat breakfast while listening to Oha Asa, all of these to be done with Akashi, of course.

Midorima remembers the beginning of the events that would lead to the end of _them,_ of their _us._  
He wonders if there had been anything he could have done different.

Akashi slept in more and more often, which was very uncharacteristic of him. After living with him for years, Midorima is used to Akashi surviving on at most six hours of sleep, and only when Midorima forcibly confiscates his laptop and drags him to bed, keeping Akashi there by wrapping his arms around him, but now Midorima comes home to a snoozing Akashi, and Akashi ceases to be the earliest riser.

It was a Saturday morning, and Midorima gets up to change into his running clothes. He exits to find the bed devoid of one redhead, and finds Akashi dressed in a simple yukata, peering at a shogi board. Midorima is confused for a moment, for usually he exits to find Akashi lacing up his running shoes by the door. Heterochromatic eyes look up at him, and hands start absently rearranging the pieces.

 “Shintarou, play with me.”

“Stop fooling around, Sei. Let’s go.”

_Why are you doing this?_

“I don’t want to.”

It wasn’t the first time Akashi had forsaken his regular run, and his visits to the gym were also starting to get irregular. Midorima found himself losing his cool more often, and arguments broke out more and more frequently.

“What is wrong with you lately?!” Midorima’s volume rises, and he feels a strange sense of satisfaction when Akashi flinches and directs his gaze to the side.

“You don’t do anything with me anymore! Are you tiring of me?! Is that it? You don’t deem me worthy of your absolute attentions?”

Akashi stiffens, and his loosely worn yukata slides off one of his shoulders, and Midorima knows he is heading into forbidden territory. He feels a tinge of guilt at bringing up the past, Akashi has apologised for it way too many times than necessary, but Akashi’s gaze stubbornly remains on the board, and Midorima’s anger only grows.

He leaves, blowing off steam with double the laps around the lake.

* * *

Midorima gets back well past lunchtime, and feels a tinge of annoyance when he sees a lump under the sheets of their bed. He sees that the shogi set is put away, and in its place was a note weighted down with a small arrangement of pink carnations with asphodel and scarlet geranium blooms.

_(I’m sorry.)_

Midorima opens up the note.

> _Dear Shintarou,_
> 
> _I apologise for today. I was out of line.  
>  Let me make it up to you. Would you be partial to a picnic tomorrow morning?_
> 
> _I love you.  
>  ~Seijuurou_

It was hard to stay mad at Akashi for long, Midorima finds. After he showers and fixes himself a decent lunch, he heads to the bedroom. The air was still lazy and languid, although hints of the cool evening breeze was starting to show, and Midorima felt no harm in joining Akashi in bed.

“Shintarou?” Akashi murmurs as the bed dips.

Midorima feels his heart break a little, when a red eye peeks open more bloodshot than usual.

Akashi curls into Midorima, burying his head into Midorima’s shirt as his arms snake around him. Midorima is surprised when Akashi seems to shake with sobs, but he simply holds Akashi closer.

“I’m sorry.” Akashi apologises, again and again.

* * *

 

> _“Shintarou, what would you do if I was gone?”_
> 
> _“Don’t be silly, you aren’t going anywhere, are you?”_

* * *

Midorima is making dinner when he hears the light footsteps of Akashi’s approach.

“Would you prefer carrots or-“

Midorima is cut off by the pair of arms around his waist, and the weight pressed against his back.

Akashi doesn’t let go for at least two minutes.

* * *

 

> _“Shintarou, what’s your favourite colour?”_
> 
> _“…red.”_

 

* * *

 

Over dinner, Midorima brings up the hug.

Akashi stills for a moment. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” He asks.

“No, I simply wondered.”

“It’s… I simply wanted to hold you.”

“…”

“Also, you’re warm.”

* * *

 

> _“Hey, Shintarou, what if we never joined the basketball club?”_
> 
> _“We’d still have met, surely, stop asking such silly questions, it’s not like you.”_

 

* * *

When Midorima wakes Akashi is already packing up sandwiches into a lunchbox, which he then places into one of two backpacks.

“Shall we?” Akashi asks, zipping up the bag.

* * *

 

Akashi leads them to the Daitokuji Temple Grounds, walking past the rock gardens on a narrow stone pathway.

“Isn’t it nice, Shintarou, that despite being dull and dead the rocks are still able to bring beauty?”

“I suppose so,” Midorima replies, looking out at lines and lines of gray.

They continue past the Temple onto a mountain path leading past a waterfall. Akashi basks in the spray, wind snatching at his hair and his shirt, and they lay down a mat under a tree, in view of the falls. There weren’t many people at that time of the month, and this place wasn’t a major tourist spot either. Fresh green leaves mingled with red ones, and Midorima watches the ripples the red ones make as they fell into the water and were swept away by the currents.

After nibbling on a few sandwiches, Akashi repositions himself to lean against Midorima, breaths heavy against his chest. He presses his lips against Midorima’s cheek, before resting his head on Midorima’s chest.

“I love you.”

Midorima strokes soft crimson hair as Akashi closes his eyes.

* * *

 

“ _Now you won’t even look at me?!” Midorima finds himself shouting. “You coward.”_

_Akashi averts his gaze, opting to stare out a window, “Yes, I suppose I am one.”_

_Midorima hears Akashi’s voice waver at the end, but he forces himself to walk out the door anyway._

 

* * *

Some nights, Midorima wakes up to a shaking redhead.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers, but Akashi never replies.

“It’s nothing, just a nightmare,” Akashi would dismiss, the morning after.

* * *

“Seijuurou?” Midorima exclaims upon seeing Akashi at the hospital he works at.

“Why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to see you?” Akashi smiles, “I just wanted to ask if you could spare some time to grab lunch together.”

“And you didn’t think to call?”

“I didn’t think you’d have picked up.”

Midorima notices that Akashi is paler than usual, but brushes it off to the cool temperatures in the hospital.

“I’ll go inform my supervisor.”

Akashi’s answering smile makes it worth it.

* * *

 

> _“Hey, Shintarou, will you always love me?”_
> 
> _“Of course.”_
> 
>  

* * *

They visit the temple and the waterfall once more. Akashi leans on Midorima a lot more this time, and now Midorima knows that it is because he needs the support. As Akashi’s head burrows into Midorima’s chest, he knows it is because of the recurring migraines that have been plaguing him for a while now.

Akashi cries, and Midorima cries with him, because now he knows.

* * *

 

> _“Stay with me?”_
> 
> _“Always, Seijuurou, always.”_

* * *

Midorima cried when he first found out that Akashi only had weeks to live.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks Akashi, but really, he blames himself for not noticing earlier.

The fatigue, the tears, every single nightmare or headache or cough. Midorima should have noticed, and each little overlooked sign sends a jab of pain into his heart.

It’s painful and unfair, but for once there’s truly nothing they can do.

* * *

 

Here’s what happens the day Akashi Seijuurou leaves Midorima Shintarou.

Midorima visits his ward, and as usual brings him his lucky item. Today it is a red anemone, and Midorima can feel the sense of foreboding it brings.

The curtains are opened, and sunlight streams in to fall on closed eyelids and red hair, and Midorima thinks Akashi looks as beautiful as ever.

He takes his hand, and eyes flit open.

“I made you tofu soup,” Midorima says, thumb tracing circles in Akashi’s palm.

“Thanks,” Akashi smiles, and Midorima helps him to sit up.

The soup is finished within minutes.

 

* * *

Midorima notices Akashi shivering, and pulls up the blankets up to Akashi’s chest. Akashi shifts as far as he could to one side of the bed, looking expectantly at Midorima, who had taken a week off his work.

Midorima climbs onto the small bed, and they hold onto each other.

“I’ll always love you,” Midorima presses a kiss to Akashi’s lips.

No tears are shed, despite both knowing that this was goodbye.

* * *

* * *

 

“He left a letter for you,” Akashi Senior says.

“Did he?”

Akashi’s father draws an envelope from his coat pocket, and sure enough the words ‘Midorima Shintarou’ was written in Akashi’s neat script.

Midorima unfolds the letter, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

 

> _“Shintarou:_
> 
> _By the time you read this letter, I would be dead. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, and for anything else I’ve done wrong, but I didn’t want you to worry, and I wasn’t sure how you would have taken it had I told you earlier. I’m glad I didn’t tell you, I don’t like seeing you cry._
> 
> _I just want you to know that I have no regrets._
> 
> _Please be happy. Don’t let my death make you shut yourself out from the world. You still have people who care about you, and I am sure you’ll find someone who loves you, and who you love too. Feel free to take them to the Temple we would visit, and the waterfalls, and be happy, Shintarou._
> 
> _The world doesn’t end just because of me. Wasn’t it you who told me that I wasn’t absolute? That the world wasn’t made to bow to my whims? Please, live, for me, and for yourself._
> 
> _Remember, I will always love you._
> 
> _Love,  
>  Your Seijuurou,  
>  Forever and Always._
> 
> _P.S. One last selfish request, please don’t cook tofu soup for anyone else.”_

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Carnation: Their scientific name roughly translates to flower of the gods, or flower of love. "My heart aches for you", "love", "I'll always be there for you"
> 
> Anemone: "death", "left behind" As it was with the death of Adonis, Aphrodite cried and mourned for her love and from her tears sprung these beautiful flowers.
> 
> Asphodel: "my regrets follow you to the grave"


End file.
